


the medicinal properties of jell-o

by birdbox (Bella_Barbaric)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Light Angst, Set After 3x20-Kansas, Some Humor, i guess or i hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 15:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2154999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bella_Barbaric/pseuds/birdbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d be willing to bet in her mind he’s an unscrupulous pirate infatuated with her daughter, and he doubts any of those things is going to help him bond with Emma’s mother.</p><p>(Except maybe the piracy thing. Banditry and piracy are not so dissimilar when you take away the modes of transport involved.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the medicinal properties of jell-o

It happens -somehow- that he’s the one left at the hospital with Snow White after the Witch is defeated while Emma, Henry and the Prince go back to the apartment to freshen up and change and get some things for the baby and Snow. He wasn’t explicitly told to wait with her but he wasn’t told not to either and while it’s more than a little uncomfortable to be skulking in hospital corridor outside Snow’s room, following them back would have been more so. So he waits for them here.

He’s playing his entire presence in Storybrooke by ear really, with no specific role or place within the town, and simply trying to adapt himself to what he thinks Emma needs. He doesn’t resent it, not really, but he certainly isn’t used to an environment without having a clearly defined part to play—either as a lieutenant or a pirate captain, he always knew what his duties and responsibilities were, there was routine and order. Now he barely knows what he is to anyone around him. He doesn’t know what he is to Emma; earlier he might have guessed simply ‘a liability’, but right now he doesn’t even want to guess because whatever he thinks is most probably wrong.

Killian leans back against the wall outside the room. The last he looked both Snow and the little royal were both sleeping soundly so really he’s left with little to do except ponder his circuitous train of thought. Even if she was awake what would she have to say to him? Even though David might have softened his opinion that he isn’t to be trusted since last they spoke, he doubts his wife is of the same view. There’s no trust there to earn back, since he’s not sure Snow White ever really trusted him to begin with. He’d be willing to bet in her mind he’s an unscrupulous pirate infatuated with her daughter, and he doubts any of those things is going to help him bond with Emma’s mother.

(Except maybe the piracy thing. Banditry and piracy are not so dissimilar when you take away the modes of transport involved.)

Still, he has a deal of respect for her—he knows a little of her unwarranted persecution by Regina in the Enchanted Forest and her confession in Echo Cave of her anguish at not getting the chance to raise Emma herself speaks volumes to the amount of suffering she’s endured. He can’t help but admire her for that. Plus, he remembers Milah once tried to put into words for him the pain of childbirth and frankly, Killian applauds anyone who puts themselves through it.

So much so that when he sees a hospital orderly pass with a trolley loaded with plates -some of it being what he remembers is Jell-o- he quickly pilfers a bowl with a spoon from it with a flourish of his hand. The orderly snaps her head around to glare at him and Killian offers her a bright, placating grin and gestures to the room behind him. The woman just rolls her eyes and carries on.

Killian enters the room quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful silence. He smiles down briefly at the baby in the cot, as close to the bed as it can get, then leaves the plate of Jell-o on the tray table in front of her for when she wakes up. He intends to leave the room as silently but—

“What are you doing?”

Killian jumps a little and turns on his heel to Snow, who looks half suspicious and half amused and for a second looks so much like her daughter it’s startling.

He shrugs, nonchalant. “Jell-o,” he points out, fairly uselessly. “It has… medicinal properties.”

Snow looks like she’s fighting to hold in a laugh at that though he can’t work out why. “Who exactly told you that?”

“No one. I simply deduced it from the volume I was served when I was here.” The bright, half-viscous and partly transparent still ranks with some of the oddest things he’s ever eaten and that’s quite the accolade, given a good portion of his life was spent with nothing but the creatures of Neverland to sustain him.

Snow opens her mouth as though to say something but shakes her head free of the thought, rolling her eyes. “Well… thank you.”

Killian nods in acknowledgement, trying to decide whether to leave her alone or not. Snow makes the decision for him, gesturing to the sofa at the side of the room with her spoon. Killian passes the cot and leans down to brush the back of his index finger against the lad’s small cheek. The boy stirs but doesn’t wake, his small limbs stretching out into the air. “He’s a handsome chap,” he tells her.

Snow smiles and nods in agreement. “Takes after his father,” she says, taking a spoonful of jell-o.

“And if the rest of his family’s anything to go by, he’ll grow up to be a right little firecracker,” Killian murmurs. The silence that follows makes him look up. Snow watches him with an inscrutable expression and he wonders if he’s being too familiar for her comfort. He moves away to the sofa and shrugs. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to ingratiate myself to you, milady. In any case, I know it takes more than compliments to earn the trust of your family. It has to be earned.”

He’s well aware he isn’t believed about the origins or even existence of the message that him seek Emma out in New York but it seems that cannot be helped now since there’s only his distrusted word in evidence. Perhaps he deserves their scorn for not speaking out about his encounter with Zelena but what’s done is done. All he can do is try to make amends.

Snow mulls over this for a moment. “Either way, I am grateful for what you’ve done for my family in the past, Hook, even if it might not seem like it sometimes. And I know you’re important to Emma.”

Killian looks away, thinking of the (cold and wet) walk back from the farmhouse with Emma; both of them quiet and unsettled over what had happened. His head had hurt with the intensity of his thoughts as much as his throat from the water forced down it. He doesn’t know quite how to take the whole event, even now. Snow’s words give him hope but with Emma, it’s hard to know for sure unless the words come from her mouth. “She’s still insistent on taking Henry back to New York,” he says, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Snow seems as downcast as he is about her daughter’s planned imminent departure. Probably more. “I thought she would be,” she intones sadly, but steels herself with optimism. “But there’s still more to be said on that. Do you know if she’s told Henry yet?”

“From the conversation I had with her earlier, I’d guess not but I’m not sure.”

“And I know she hasn’t told Regina—she isn’t going to let Henry leave without a fight, especially now he has his memories back.” Snow nods to herself. “We’re not going to let either of them leave without a fight.”

Killian believes that at least. After a minute, he shakes his head, smiling wryly. “Your daughter is an extraordinary woman,” he says honestly.

“She is,” Snow agrees. “Emma is… stubborn and difficult sometimes and she’s probably been through more than she’ll ever let on to any of us-” Snow looks him dead in the eye now, looking for something in his response “-And we love her all the more for it.”

It isn’t really a question and Killian is surprised to be included in her implication. Snow’s stare is relentless; it’s almost a warning, although not quite the  _stay-away-from-my-daughter/you’d-better-not-hurt-her_  warning he’s come to expect from Emma’s parents, but Killian understands what it means: _Emma Swan deserves to be loved_.

“Aye,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly. “We do.”

Snow searches him any absence of sincerity, eventually giving him a tiny nod then turning back to her Jell-o as though nothing had happened. They sit in silence for a few minutes while Snow eats and Killian muses on the conversation he just had. It isn’t quite Snow’s approval or trust but it feels like forward progression anyway. It’s still hypothetical anyway, and will remain that way if Emma really does choose to go back to New York; the thought of being with out her again is abhorrent but equally he isn’t so sure she’d want him to follow her there, and he couldn’t be where she didn’t want him. He couldn’t live his life as a liability to her. His presence in Storybrooke sometimes is based on the fact she hasn’t ordered him away yet but if she leaves herself, what does he have?

Killian swallows and shakes his head to drown out the thought. He sits forward and smiles, a little forced, at Snow. “Have you a name for the little prince?” he asks mainly to distract himself.

“A few vague ideas, but nothing concrete,” Snow answers. “David and I will discuss when he gets back.”

Killian smirks wider. “You know I’ve always considered ‘Killian’ to be a fine name.”

Snow rolls her eyes. “Okay,  _now_  you’re pushing it.” 


End file.
